Oh, My Head
by Vek Talis
Summary: Britmar Seclu has the worst date of her life.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Oh, My Head

Author: Vek Talis

Genre: Drama/Humor

Characters: Ocs Britmar Seclu, Uanaso, Kazaro

Timeframe: 197 years before KotOR, 4153 years BBY, approximately

Taris was for the rich and powerful. The upper levels of the giant planet-city sprawled with decadence, greed and avarice. Fine shops touted their expensive wares to the crustiest of the crust.

A trading hub between the Core Worlds and Outer Rim, Taris sat on one of the most lucrative hyperspace routes. Merchants from across the galaxy did business here, bringing in so many credits in such a short boom of time, that Taris' upper levels had been built over the brief span of little more than a century.

Normally, this was not the type of world Britmar found herself on. Or, to qualify, if she ever docked her vessel, the Osprey, it would have been in the Undercity. Only a dozen meters below the wealth of several planets lay the darkness and poverty which held up such decadence.

Today, Britmar was getting a special treat. Her lover, Uanaso, a Zabrak fellow with daring reputation to match his ruggedly handsome looks, was off securing payment from their most recent job. A semi-legitimate job, even. Would wonders never cease?

A wealthy Tarisian was into collecting ancient Wookiee totems from Kashyyyk. It wasn't illegal, per se, to buy them from willing chiefs and resell them on the open market. It wasn't even illegal to transport a potentially dangerous item (Wookiee totems from the reign of Chaanawrl II were often booby-trapped) in a private vessel, provided you took the necessary safety precautions.

What was frowned upon, was when a certain Wookiee chief didn't want to part with the particular totem and you had to resort to less than official means to get it. Of course, Kashyyyk didn't matter much in the grand scheme of things. It was neither in the Republic, nor Sith Empire, so what you did to the Wookiees was fine, so long as you got out with all your digits intact.

This job was going to pay well enough that they could afford to get a little frivolous. That was why they paid for an expensive hotel room, and why Britmar had browsed a fine catalogue for something special.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she said, a towel wrapped around her head, another just getting cinched at her bosom. A real water shower was a luxury she didn't have on the Osprey. "Who's there?" she asked when she reached the door.

"Home delivery, Miss Seclu," the voice on the other side of the door said.

"Ooo!" she squealed and palmed the door.

A smiling lady in professional dress hurried into the room. Her smile dropped as the door swooshed closed. "I'm terribly sorry, Miss Seclu, I had no idea you were indisposed."

Britmar reached for the garment bag, waving away the apology. "Don't fret none, honey. For this, I don't care if you stare." To that, she undid, dropped the towel to the floor. Her body was still damp with sweet, real water. In her other hand, she carried another towel.

The other woman turned around, crimson beginning to tell on her already rosy cheeks. Carefully, Britmar draped the garment bag across a plush velvet chair, took the dry towel and ran it up and down her curves. To her surprise – and slight agitation – the other woman didn't try to sneak a peek.

When she was dry enough, she tossed the towel onto a nearby sofa and unzipped the garment bag. The first item was a silk slip. She'd never had something so fancy in her life. As the delicate but strong fabric slipped across her legs, she imagined herself a high class lady, bedecked in furs, silks and jewels. It made her giggle.

"Miss Seclu?" the other woman asked.

"You can turn around now, honey," Britmar said. The towel on her head came down next and she rubbed a bit more before her flaming locks cascaded down around her shoulders. As she tossed her head back, she caught a glimpse of the other woman. A smile threatened to breech her walls as she noticed the other woman was staring, after all.

This was her first job back with Uanaso after a couple of years. They'd needed a break, according to Britmar. Of course, Uanaso went right out and doinked a Zabrak tart named Kazaro, when all Britmar had really wanted was a little space.

"We were on a break," became Uanaso's mantra after that. Britmar couldn't stand the sight of him. Until recently.

As a gift to her boyfriend, what would he say to a second...

Britmar smirked, then shook her head. This woman was cute, but she wasn't interested at the moment. "Care to help me?" she asked her.

"Of course," the other woman said. "That's what we're here for." She touched the garment bag just as Britmar's hand came to rest on it. There was a brief spark and the other woman averted her eyes. "Sorry," she said quietly.

"Go ahead, honey," Britmar said softly. "What's your name, darling?"

"Lara," she said as she took the flowing gown from the garment bag. "I must say, that slip does you every bit of justice I expected it to."

Britmar ran her hands along her curves. "It do feel good," she said in a smokey tone.

Of course, any chance at a threesome that night flew right out the window, as soon as Lara helped Britmar on with the dress.

"What's the meaning of this?!" Britmar screamed. Holding up her arms, the sleeves of the satin dress hung lifelessly down. The entire dress sagged and drooped and didn't hold anything up, nothing important, anyhow.

"I got enough room in this dress for three of me and a gaggle of ferrets up my sleeves."

"I-I'm terribly sorry, Miss Seclu," Lara stammered. Quickly, they got her out of that tent in disguise and she examined the label. "My goodness. I called instructions back, as per your order, for a four. Instead, they give me a fourteen!"

"I better have a dress soon," Britmar said as Lara commed her store. "My boyfriend's gonna be back soon, and then we're supposed to go to dinner. I can't go out looking like I wrassle in jelly." She would never admit, not to Lara, that she had wrestled in jelly once or twice. Nor, would she admit that it was too much fun.

"I'm afraid we're out of your size, Miss Seclu." Lara eyed the floor as she spoke. "This is all my fault and I accept full blame."

Sudden compassion leaped up Britmar's spine and she reached out to touch Lara's arm. "It ain't your fault, honey," she said. "Help me find another dress from your catalogue and it'll be good. I need something slinky, cause my boyfriend's getting lucky tonight."

Lara's grin was wicked, but she quickly hid it. "Y-you aren't like most of my clientele, Miss Seclu. I find you delightfully refreshing."

"Call me Britmar, honey," she said.

They spent the next few minutes flipping through the catalogue until Britmar stopped abruptly.

"You like?" Lara asked. She looked from Britmar, to the catalogue and back, Britmar wondering what was going through her mind. "I think you would dazzle in that."

"I would, wouldn't I?" Britmar asked.

This was a different kind of celebration, too. Less than two months prior, she'd been at her lowest point, shuttling fugitives. She'd lost the Osprey to a runaway Jedi and Sith and ejected into space to die. If not for some naive Jedi who rescued her, then protected her from a Sith who nearly killed her, she wouldn't be around for this reunion with Uanaso at all.

Those Jedi. They were cute, but they were such a drag. "Vek and Vizif, that was their names," she said quietly as Lara ordered the other dress. The kiss she'd given them both were only half remembered. Vizif was inexperienced, but Vek, he'd kissed before. Of that, Britmar was completely certain.

"It's on its way," Lara said. "Of course, there will no extra charge for delivery, nor for the difference in price between the two dresses."

"I reckon not," Britmar said. She hadn't even realized the new one was a little pricier than the first.

As soon as the new dress arrived and they verified it was indeed the correct size, Lara said her good-byes and left. "She skeedadled, more like," Britmar mused after the door had shut. "I got to get this thing on and get into my makeup," she said. She didn't open the garment bag fully until after she'd put on her face. By then, Uanaso was milling around the hotel room.

"What's taking so long, babe?" he asked. "It never used to take that long to get your face on."

"What?" Britmar shouted from the fresher room.

"Uh, I mean, you look great, babe," Uanaso said. "But we have reservations for that fancy restaurant."

How did he know she looked 'great'? There was a door in the way. Did he have x-ray vision all of a sudden? Britmar clamped down on the anger and finished getting dressed. When she stood before the full length mirror, the perfect lighting shining across the slinky dress up to her flaming tresses, she shrieked.

"What now, babe?"

Britmar saw red. And not just her hair.


	2. Chapter 2

2

"It's puce. Puce!" Britmar clenched her fists, pounded them on her legs. She barely noticed Uanaso slip something into his jacket pocket. Then, he gaped.

"Babe. That dress..."

"I know; it's disgusting!" Britmar imagined Lara's ear to ear grin that she'd escaped as quickly as she could.

"Disgusting?" Uanaso's frown made his head droop slightly. One of his horns caught the light and shone in Britmar's face for a second. "That's uber sexy, babe," he said. "It makes your boobs rock."

"It's puce," Britmar repeated. "I have red hair, remember? Look at my face." She waited for only a split second. "It's up here. My complexion is pasty and I have red hair. This color is horrible on me!"

"What is puce, anyway?" Uanaso seemed not in the least concerned.

"It's this awful shade of green, idiot," Britmar said huffily.

"Hey," he said and stepped toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I think you look amazing." His eyes wandered down to her breasts. Again.

Sneering, Britmar shoved him away. "I don't care if the girls can do a jig in this dress," she growled. "The picture in the catalog showed it as navy. This monstrosity has to go back."

"We'll be late," Uanaso protested. "They frown on that sort of thing at these posh places in the Upper City."

It was to be a fine date at a rizty place. Britmar, however, stomped her foot. "Then I guess we ain't gonna make that reservation," she said definitively. "I'm not going outside dressed like a clown."

"Fine," Uanaso said, his eyes dangerously close to rolling back in his head. "I'll have to comm them to cancel." He reached into the same pocket and pulled out his comm, before stepping outside.

Britmar left a blistering message with the upscale store's droid and a scathing rebuke for Lara. They were closed, however, so she wasn't getting that dress off her hands until tomorrow. That also meant she had nothing fancy to wear, anyway. It was good Uanaso was canceling.

"Wait a tick," Britmar said, scowling into the full length mirror. "Why would he bother to cancel? It's not like we give a nikrat's ass about some high class eatery on this backwater dump of a planet."

Just as she was about to activate the security system and listen in on whoever he was talking to, the door slid open and he walked in. "All taken care of. And, I figure we can go to the Spacer's Luck, cantina and casino in the Lower City. You know, since we're here." He winked at her and despite her anger, her heart fluttered a bit.

"You remembered," Britmar said. Maybe there was some hope of salvaging this date after all. It was where they had first met. She'd gotten into a bar fight with some _schutta_, and when her rough crewmate had tried to interfere with a broken bottle, Uanaso had swooped in to take out the creep.

"That's right, babe," he said and bared his sharp teeth. "Whatta you say? Change into that little black number you got, that pushes your rack up to your chin and let's get."

Britmar fought back a blush, kissed him on his nose. "You're a charmer," she said and hurried back into the bedroom. Off went the disgusting, high priced piece of space trash, and off came the silk slip, too. Her black dress was tight and the midriff was absent, supporting her bosom and showing an incredible amount of finely toned flesh.

"Maybe I'll tear him out of that jacket later. With my teeth," she mused as she slipped herself into the dress. It fit just as she'd remembered. Better, maybe. When she came out of the bedroom, Uanaso's jaw dropped. "One of many, tonight," Britmar said with a smirk.

Swoop bikes zigzagged here and there in the Lower City. Gangs were mostly glorified clubs. They didn't fight too much, mostly bragged about their swoops and raced them every so often. Something about men riding throbbing, phallic shaped machines and claiming to be macho. It made Britmar giggle every time she thought about it.

The Spacer's Luck had a fine casino. Pazaak, Sabaac, Quasar machines, just about anything you could imagine was here for your enjoyment. That, and the gambling no doubt made the proprietors very wealthy.

The attached cantina could have been a little fancier. But it was a lively atmosphere, and that was one of Britmar's favorite adjectives.

"I heard they got some new dancing girls," Uanaso said as they walked in, arm in arm.

"Down boy; concentrate on the here and now," Britmar said. "Let's get a booth, then we can check out the scenery."

Despite it being a cantina in the Lower City, one of the things that made the Spacer's Luck a bit of upscale was the maitre d' droid. "Greetings and welcome to the Spacer's Luck," it said in tinny tones. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Uanaso," her Zabrak boyfriend said, ignoring the droid. His focus went past the clattering can and into the cantina itself. His eyes darted here and there, like he was looking for something – or someone. Britmar watched him closely.

"Ah, here it is," the droid said. "Table for two, this way, please."

"Can we get a booth instead?" Britmar asked when the droid led them to a round table in the middle of the action.

"I'm sorry," the droid said, not sounding sorry. "We are booked full for the night on account of the first rate entertainment the owners have managed to secure. Enjoy your meal at the Spacer's Luck; and why not try the casino afterwards? You might get lucky."

"Well, I suppose this'll do," Britmar said. She waited for Uanaso to hold the chair out for her, but he sat down, his eyes glued to the stage. This date was quickly souring. Again.

"Hello? Forget about me?" Britmar asked as her chair squealed along the floor.

"Sit down, babe, I think the show'll be starting soon," Uanaso said absently. Inside, Britmar began to steam again.

The waiter droid arrived while Britmar was still studying the menu. "What will the lady have?" it asked in monotones.

"Uh, is the sea bass fresh?" she asked.

If the waiter had flesh, it might have frowned. "Probably when it was on Dantooine," it said.

"Ugh," Britmar said and kept looking. The band began to bring out its instruments and the place filled up quickly. What could be so amusing? It's not like no one had ever seen a thousand Twi'lek dancing girls gyrate half naked on a stage before. And that was usually before puberty set in.

"I think I'll have the green salad and the six ounce nerf tartar," she said at last.

"And you, sir?" the waiter asked.

At last, Uanaso pried his eyes off the stage. He seemed befuddled and perused the menu like a man possessed. "Tuber fries and a nerfburger, extra rare," he mumbled. The waiter clanged away.

Britmar reached out to clasp her boyfriend's hand. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?" she said.

"Uh, what? Yeah, a long time," he said. His hand felt cold and he barely squeezed hers back.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Then, she remembered the object he'd slipped into his pocket when she first came out of the bedroom. Suspicion leaped into her throat. "Who were you talking to when I put on that gods awful dress?"

Now Uanaso gave her his full attention. When he was distracted like this, he only gave her full attention when he was going to get some, or when he was about to tell a boldfaced lie. "Some bad debts, babe," he said and grinned wickedly. "Some people don't know when to quit asking for payment."

"Who is this bad debt to?" she demanded.

Just then, the lights went low. The band began to play, softly at first. All the men and women in the place seemed to tense up, as if expecting something terrible – or wonderful – to happen at any moment. Britmar shuddered at the sudden dip in temperature she felt from their rapt attention.

A spotlight struck out, near the edge of the stage. A silky smooth leg, golden tan in shade, slipped out. It was toned, lithe and sensual. The crowd roared. Britmar found herself wanting to roar, too.

The leg disappeared. The back end of a form slithered out from the curtains, wearing a sequined – but not overly gaudy – dress that had so little fabric it could scarce be called a dress. It was more like the mere suggestion of a dress. Tan, toned skin. Excellent physique, form and shape. All of a sudden, Britmar saw what all the excitement was about. This was no Twi'lek dancing girl.

When she began to sing, her voice resonated against the walls of the cantina. It sounded like angels singing. She belted out the first few lines from a cantina standard in the Twi'lek language. Britmar was an instant fan, along with everyone else.

Then, as quickly as it began, the love affair ended. The star of the show bounced up to the front of the stage to thunderous applause, her head back to allow her larynx room to force out that high note. When she lowered her head, horns gleaming in the spotlights, her full, rosy lips glittering, frosty blue eyes dancing, Britmar's hands balled up into fists and she screamed. Not that anyone in the cantina could have heard her over the din of music, singing and applause.

"That son of a-"

To be continued...


End file.
